I finally finished reading Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates, it was very good book. I do recommend it. I watched the movie and, as expected, it was a bit different than the book. I didn’t expect everything, or every single detail to be included in there, but I did expect the big, or important (or what I thought were important) scenes. But whatever, it was all good. I love Kate Winslet, I think she’s such a great actress, and of course so is Leo.
Whenever I read a book, I always find myself relating to one character or another, this time I found myself relating to April Wheeler, a lot. I always admired my husband for being such a great person (I’m not just saying that, cause he’s my husband), for his “ability to love”, for his ability to be so passionate about things, for being someone that anyone can count on– in terms of needing physical help, pocket change help, a ride to wherever, and for loving me so much. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when he does things, or says things to me that make me feel like he is such an inconsiderable jerk, and he really IS being an inconsiderable jerk, but he loves me; all he wants is me.
I’ve been questioning my relationship with him for a while now, and it really hurts becuase he is a good guy, and not to mention sensitive. I, on the other hand, have never been passionate about anything, not even about an author, or a book. And what about love? I can honestly say I don’t remember the last time my mother said she loved me, it’s been years. And I know my father loves me, but for some reason it just feels awkward because he never really said it, it was very rare. The last time my parents hugged me was when I was in grade school, and I’m already 23 years old! My father hugged me about a month or so ago, and it is just TOO awkward, I just cannot stress enough how awkward it was. I specifically remember this one time when there was a ceremony at school, I was 11 years old and I received a small reward, along with a few other classmates, and their mothers hugged them so tight, and when I saw them I turned to my mom and we semi-hugged with a couple pats on the back and it was just too awkward, almost forced.
My son is the only one that I can truly say, and know that I 100% mean it, that I love him. I will give my life for him. I cannot say that about my husband. I don’t know but it just makes me sad to be that way. I don’t want to be that way, but that’s just how I feel, sometimes I find myself trying so hard to look at the good side of my husband and concentrate on that and just want to love him as he loves me, and be as concerned about him as he is about me, but I just can’t. There’s always something there that blocks it. And I don’t know what it is. I hope my son is not going to be like that. I hope he can be different from myself in terms of being able to be passionate about things.
Well, this definetly was a long blog, wasn’t it? I’m sure nobody will read it, but it’s okay… it’s good for me to reflect on things.